Letting Go of the Past
by amandalynwood
Summary: FLIGHTPLAN...Captain Rich and Kyle Pratt both have tragic pasts. They meet up again 9 months after the hijacking. Will they be able to make a new future together. LEMONS
1. Chapter 1

Letting Go of the Past

Chapter One

Striding down the airport corridor pilot Malcolm Rich carried his flight bag, a garment bag with two suits, plus an extra carry-on with a couple of casual clothing changes. He'd asked for the New York run, one more flight for his paycheck to offset the week's time off he'd be losing for the trial. He, as well Ms. Pratt had been subpoenaed, and would be giving testimony against flight attendant Stephanie Bradford. He hoped his testimony wouldn't take more than one day, but this was a hijacking and terrorism trial and it was anybody's guess how long it might take. He turned the events of that flight over in his mind again, wondering, analyzing yet again every detail he could recall.

_Was there anything Carson had said that should have tipped him off?_

He'd trusted the sky marshal implicitly, and had been duped completely. If the explosion hadn't killed the son-of-a-bitch, he would have done so with his bare hands. The bastard had threatened his passengers, and set up a loving parent to take the fall, when it was Carson and his accomplices that had murdered Pratt's husband. And to find out that one of his trusted crew was in on it. Malcolm had worked off and on with Stephanie Bradford for almost a year, he couldn't believed she'd fooled them all.

Although Ms. Bradford willingly gave up the rest of the conspirators, the Federal Prosecuter was having no part of plea bargaining. The stand against all forms of terrorism was now absolute, no bargains and no excuses accepted. She was to be made an example. The trial by jury would determine how many things she would be convicted of, for the list was long. Accomplice to air terrorism, accomplice to hijacking and the kidnapping of Julia Pratt, child endangerment, and the reckless endangerment of more than 400 passengers and crew aboard that flight, one count for each soul aboard his plane.

Malcolm arrived at the gate, checked in with the personnel at the departure gate and headed on to the cockpit. Even as he ran the pre-flight checklist the conversation with Kyle Pratt ran through his mind again, for probably the millionth time… It had been almost nine months since that flight marred his perfect flight record, but it wasn't his fault any more than it had been hers…

Flashback:

""….._He struggled from deep down to find his voice as he looked down at the woman, holding her still unconscious daughter in her arms, holding her child tenderly. "She looks like you.." _

_"Yeah, there's a little bit of her dad in there too." She gave him a half-smile. _

_He managed to return it, before tearing his gaze from hers to stare down at the floor, overwhelmed by another wave of guilt. "I'm sorry." he swore, before returning his gaze to hers. _

_She nodded a silent acceptance, not a trace of accusation in her eyes, but it could never make up for what had almost happened to her child. That beautiful little girl. It was his flight, his responsibility. He should have made the search personally…""_

There was knock on the door to the cockpit. "Come in," he called over his shoulder.

"Captain Rich? You need anything to drink before takeoff? Coffee, water?" asked the flight attendant.

He smiled, recognizing the voice, "You got subpoenaed too I take it?" he queried, not even turning his head from the checklist.

"Yes sir, might as well get paid to get there."

"My thoughts exactly, nothing for now Fiona, maybe later."

"Yessir." The door closed behind the young woman and Malcolm returned to the preflight check...


	2. Chapter 2

**~CHAPTER TWO~**

Kyle Pratt stood watching her daughter sleep, not quite ready to wake her for the day.

Julia had done so well in the last few months. She carried no horrifying memories of her kidnapping and the hijacking in which she nearly died. Why had Carson chosen them? Why had it been her husband who'd had to die?

It no longer mattered. All that mattered was that she and Julia, with the help of her parents, were making a fresh start. Julia was in school, making good grades and lots of new friends.

Kyle was finally making her peace with what had happened as far as the airline had been concerned. Carson had worked them all extremely well, and the fact the truth had won out in the end had returned her daughter to her.

She fully expected to see Captain Malcolm Rich again; out of the entire crew he and flight attendant Fiona Lopez had been the only ones to step forward and acknowledge they'd been wrong.

Later on, she'd realized his apology was somehow deeper as if he could relate to her situation. The tenderness in his eyes as he looked down at her daughter. She'd tried after it was all over to look at the incident from his perspective, given the responsibilities that rested on his shoulders and she could not fault his actions. He'd been proceeding on false information. No wonder he'd looked at her with such contempt in the last minutes aboard the plane. His patience was exhausted, bitterly twisted by Carson's lies.

She had the next few days off. The airline had given her the week off for the trial. She was working on a special project now, new safeguards, to prevent such events from happening again, but it was difficult given that so much in additional security had already been done in the aftermath of 9/11.

Further lockdown of systems could actually hinder passenger service and safety. It simply was not prudent to put coded locks on every accesss through out the plane. Each plane would have to have different codes and such and pilots and crews changed planes so frequently. If things needed to be accessed, in particular in avionics, quick access would be required, the precious time needed to make an adjustment could prove devastating in the event someone needing access forgot this week's codes for example.

Coding packages were being worked on, hoping to provide specialized, self-programmed computer disks for each pilot who would have set his own personal access codes, which could be inserted into the airplane's central computer and then would be erased come the end of each flight, thereby thwarting anyone trying to hack into the system. But it was still in the exploratory phase, and was still as yet an unviable solution.

Julia stirred in her sleep, and Kyle leaned down to kiss her daughter's forehead, "Come on baby, time to rise and shine."

Half an hour out of New York, Malcolm's co-pilot Damian Martinez, turned on the 'fasten seat belt' sign and made the announcement that they would soon begin final approach to New York's Laguardia airport.

Another knock came on the cockpit door, and Malcolm replied, "Come on in, Fiona,"

It seemed that Fiona Lopez had volunteered to serve the crew for this flight. And Malcolm had seen the passenger manifest and he knew why. She'd felt so guilty about Julia Pratt that she was actually uncomfortable when there was more than a couple of children on a flight anymore. He'd discussed it with Fiona more than once, but she had some sort of block about it. It had nothing to do with disliking children and entirely too much with caring too much. At least she was able to continue to do her job.

Fiona was brisk, all business, yet friendly all the same-as usual, "Anything else for either of you?"

"Not for me" Malcolm replied, "You Damian?"

"Nothing." As the door closed behind her, Damian cast a glance toward Malcolm. "You seem to be on rather friendly terms with Ms. Lopez, Rich, what's up with that?"

"Don't even go there, it's not what you think—not even close. We shared a mutual horrifying experience is all. She's a nice young woman, if you're thinkin' about gettin' involved with her, you better be good to her or you'll answer to me."

"Geez, Rich, didn't mean anything by it, she's seems really sweet, and she's pretty, soft and rounded in all the right places. What are you her brother or something?"

"There's worse things I could be, but the facts are simple, she's been subpoenaed to testify just like I have in the Stephanie Bradford trial. She's more than a soft and rounded body, and she's not got a lot of self-esteem. We're co-workers and friends, we've shared some confidences and she's had her share of hard knocks. So if you're out looking for a casual lay then I suggest you back off. She's not a casual sort of woman." Without missing a beat, Malcolm contacted the tower, "Alto Air Flight 2-3-5-7, requesting clearance to make final approach…"

The radio crackeld back. "Alto 2-3-5-7 cleared for final approach."

With new thoughts to consider about Ms. Fiona Lopez, Damian made the announcement to the cabins –"All flight personnel take your seats and strap in for landing…"


	3. Chapter 3

**~Chapter Three~**

_**I've never been the kind…to ever let my feelings show.  
I thought that bein' strong … meant never losin' your self-control.**_

_  
**But I'm just drunk enough….to let go of my pain  
To hell with my pride… let it fall like rain…from my eyes,  
tonight I wanna cry.**_

_-----------excerpt from __Tonight I wanna Cry  
–Keith Urban_

Malcolm slid the key card into the door knob of the hotel suite. He'd already had four scotches in the hotel bar and had the rest of another bottle in his hand. He wasn't flying for a week and his meeting with the prosecutor to go over his testimony wasn't until tomorrow afternoon.

Fiona would be up later; she was having dinner with Damian who'd promised to be on his best behavior. Malcolm told her at some point during the flight to cancel her hotel room; he had a suite and an extra bed. No sense in spending her flight attendant salary, and he could certainly use the company. A change of pace from his solitary existence. Going to work and coming home...

That was why he took so many international flights it kept him busy. No time miss a life he didn't have anymore. This time however, it was Kyle and Julia Pratt who were the cause of his binge---well, okay so not entirely Kyle and Julia. Jessica and Chloe were in the mix somewhere, and that one fact was the underlying root of his guilt with Kyle Pratt. Once again bits and pieces of the various conversations played through his head. His reactions on board that evening while not entirely controlled by personal experience were definitely influenced. He'd seen similar irrational behavior before.

"_Ms. Pratt, have you had anything to drink on this flight? Anything at all?"_

_She looked utterly stunned that he'd even asked her such a thing and responded vehemently, "No."_

_He was certain she was under the influence of something, she seemed paranoid and delusional "Are you under any medication?"_

"_I have sleeping pills with me just like every other passenger on board." she hesitated for several seconds then continued, clearing struggling internally before she made her confession, "And I'm carrying Klonopin, for anxiety. " She met his gaze with no shame, "I took two this morning."_

_He became patronizing, his suspicions vindicated, his disapproval clearly warranted, or so he thought, " I see—how long have you been on them?" Looking back now it was almost as if he'd accused her of being a drunken addict, which is what he was thinking. _

"_I'm not on them." Of course she denied it, didn't they all?  
"How long?"  
"I filled the prescription a week ago."she glanced at all them accusingly, "when my husband died."_

_The wind had gone out of his accusation, knowing loss himself and it literally knocked the stuffings out of one's soul. but it still didn't change the fact that he still thought she was strung out. He thought--go ahead and search the plane. Placate her._

Then it became a matter of thinking her not drunk, but in distraught denial of the truth. What else was he supposed to think after the message from Berlin and the next conversation? And the hardest words he'd ever had to say to anyone. He knew of death and denial as well. He tried, damned if he didn't try to get her to come with him, but she was hysterical, and she would not listen to him.

_"Where is she?" She asked desperately.  
"She's dead godammit!" he'd shouted at her in his frustration, nearly choking on the words, it just about as devastating saying them to someone else as hearing them directed at yourself._

_"You found her," she asked, utter devastation on her face.  
"No I didn't find her." And he felt for her, understanding her agony, and yet still thinking her lost in a delusion. Then he'd led her away._

Malcolm poured yet another glass of scotch as he remembered not a conversation this time but the view across the crowded hanger...

…_.His deplaned passengers sat awaiting other accommodations and such, while all of them had to deal with the reality that only person on the airplane who had not been delusional was Kyle Pratt; now lost in a touching conversation with the daughter no one had believed existed. The two-faced crowd who had only been to happy to applaud Carson for catching her, now had the audacity to whisper about her, and what a brave woman she was. None of them stepped forward to offer an apology._

Maybe if he'd shown some of her strength and determination, if he'd only fought harder against the threat in his own home maybe SHE would still be alive….

It was nearing midnight when Fiona arrived back at the suite, Damian had escorted her up, and she invited him in, only to find Malcolm passed out cold on the sofa with the TV on, the remote control in one hand, and an empty scotch glass in the other. Fiona took the glass setting it on the coffee table, and then the remote, turning off the television. She glanced at Damian, "I'd do it myself, but he's too far gone to go under his own steam. Will you help me get him to bed?"

"Glad to." Damian replied as they somehow pulled Malcolm to his feet between them and some how got him into the bedroom. Fiona removed the tie that hung haphazardly around his neck and stripped off his shirt, leaving his tee-shirt, all of this accomplished while Damian held him upright, and then Damian tackled his shoes and they managed the trousers together. As Fiona gently tucked the covers up around his shoulders. he mumbled one word. "Chloe."

"Oh Malcolm." Compassion filled her voice as moisture welled up in Fiona's eyes. She reached down to stroke her fingers through his hair, murmuring softly to him, "I thought it was getting better." She kissed his forehead like a mother would a sick child and joined Damian at the door, as she swiped her tears away.

"Who's Chloe?" Damain asked in curious whisper. Fiona pushed Damian out of the bedroom, turning off the light, and closing the door behind them.

"Chloe was his daughter; she died eighteen months ago…"

*********


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter Four**_

Malcolm groaned as Fiona breezed into his room, whipping open the curtains, and yanking the covers off him. "Hey" he grumbled, pulling the pillow over his head to shut out the light, he was going to have one hell of a hangover today.

"Un uh, Get up. I've already ordered breakfast and lots of coffee from room service, and Damian is going to join us for breakfast, he's got a noon flight to Paris."

"Fine, but a compromise please…"

"I'm listening…"

"Close those bloody damn drapes."

"Done, and you have to thank Damian when he gets here, he helped me put you to bed. What shoved you into the bottle last night?"

Fiona already knew but she wanted to hear it, so she maybe could help him. He kept everyone but her at arm's length or further. She was the only one he would talk to and she knew it.

"Kyle and Julia Pratt."

"You sure Malcolm, is that all?" She wouldn't call him a liar, but she'd heard him call his daughter's name.

"All right and I was thinking about Chloe again."

Fiona laid into him, "_By crawling into a bottle?_ Nice, really nice Malcolm, when it was drinking that got her killed."

"Cut me some slack, Fiona, I drank alone in my room, no one got hurt."

"Damn it, Malcolm no one is asking you to forget her, she was your child, but you can't simply stop living your life. If not for yourself do it for her."

"Do I tell you how to live your life?" he snapped, "Back off Fiona."

Her face fell, and his gut wrenched, She looked like she was going to cry. His problems weren't Fiona's fault. She was the only real friend he had and she had problems of her own, "Fiona, I'm sorry… I shouldn't have said that to you. Come here."

She sat down beside him on the bed. "No Malcolm I'm the one who should be sorry, I shouldn't have pushed you about it. It's not my place."

He touched her face, noting the unshed tears that glistened in her eyes, "Yes it is, no one else cares. I couldn't ask for a better friend."

Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the suite door. And he suddenly realized with startling clarity that Fiona was almost all he had anymore…

_**Nine months before the Alto Air hijacking...**_

For the better part of the last two years their marriage had been crumbling before his eyes and Malcolm didn't have a clue how to stop it. God he had loved Jess so much, well--he had loved the woman Jessica Rich used to be. The first five years had been wonderful, culminating in the birth of their daughter Chloe, during the fourth year of the marriage.

But Jess hadn't been satisfied, she wanted another child, but after the second miscarriage, she started in on the tranquilizers, with alcohol chasers, and instead of appreciating the beautiful healthy child they had, she crawled into a bottle with drugs and alcohol, mourning the the ones she couldn't have instead. She steadily changed, drink by drink and day by day. They fought all the time, and still somehow he never realized just how bad it had gotten, or he would never have left Chloe alone in her care.

The last argument was over the phone, he was stuck with a twelve-hour weather delay in Hong Kong. Jess was clearly deep into the bottle again. And she threatened to leave him again. But she'd threatened it so many times he didn't take it seriously anymore.

Instead of ignoring it, he should have seen the warning flags going up. He never for a moment suspected that she'd taken up with another man. No, that wasn't right, she'd taken up company with another alcoholic. Mutual enablers, he supposed.

It shouldn't have been such a surprise, their sex life was non-existent and he was getting damn tired of being accused of cheating every time he had a layover. And it had been tempting a time or two, but he didn't take any offers, he was sticking it out in the marriage for Chloe. His world revolved around that little girl.

He knew why Jessica had not confronted him face to face, she knew there was no way he'd let her walk away and take Chloe, so she'd done it while he was gone. He didn't think she even cared for Chloe anymore, it was buried so deep beneath her addiction.

Sneaking away while he was on the other side of the world had been a way to get back at him for whatever imagined crime she deemed him guilty of this time. The way her alcohol-impaired mind worked there was no telling, but she had sought to hurt him, by taking away his baby. All she really cared about was where her next drink was coming from.

Still she and that drunken bastard had packed up and took his baby girl. Chloe hadn't stood a chance, and the two of them walked away from it. The car had been wrapped around a tree and they hadn't even bothered to make Chloe put on her seat belt. She never remembered to do it on her own. She was only five years old. And the only thing in the world he truly cared about had been tossed from the car and ripped from his life.

The stupidity of the woman, she'd actually come home after the accident; stinking drunk, simply waiting for him to get home and dropped the news on him. He hadn't believed her.

He had gone from room to room calling out for Chloe. He'd actually had to call the police to find out exactly what had happened and where they'd taken his baby. Jess stumbled to her feet. "I'm coming with you."

"No Jess, I'm going alone…"

"But… she stammered, "What about Chloe?"

"Chloe?"

His fury had rushed to the surface, keeping the rest at bay, for he could not let himself grieve quite yet, there were arrangements to make, anything to keep him from commiting murder on his wife. "

"_What about her?_ You fuckin' killed her. Stay away from **_my_** baby. You disgust me, Jess, you're a drunk and a slut. Don't you think you've already done enough? My little girl is out there all alone, and instead of staying with her, wherever the hell they took her, here you sit sucking down more booze. I need to see that she's taken care of properly. "

She turned on the waterworks, her hands grabbing his shirt, "Malcolm, please."

With barely controlled restraint, he pried her hands from his clothes and shoved her away from him. She stumbled, falling to the floor, and he made no effort to help her up. He had nothing left to give Jessica and she was beyond his forgiveness. She might not have been driving but she was the one who in a drunken fog put his child in that car. Chloe had been the lone string holding them together and she was gone. He couldn't even look at Jess anymore without it tearing at his soul to have such thoughts about anyone

_**Why hadn't it been Jess and not his little Chloe?**_

"You'll go ahead and finish what you started. Your bags are already packed, you were leaving me. Get the hell out while you still can… If you're still here when I get back you can't say you weren't warned. If you're looking for sympathy from me forget it, I have my own pain to deal with. I don't care a damn about yours.."

He left, Jess still on the floor, and walked out the door, heading back downstairs to wait for the police officer who'd offered to come and drive him to the hospital where they'd taken Chloe's body.

It was almost more than he could bear, not a mark on her sweet little face, and she had been killed instantly when she was thrown from the car. The doctor assured him she never knew what happened. Malcolm didn't leave her side, not for a moment more than necessary from then until she was buried. And if he did leave Chloe for any reason someone else stayed with her.

He'd made it clear when Jess showed up at the funeral home, still drunk that she was not welcome if she couldn't have enough respect for their daughter to show up sober and therefore he banned Jess from their daughter's funeral, served her with divorce papers a few days later, and had not seen her since…


	5. Chapter 5

_**~Chapter Five~**_

Kyle pulled Julia along behind her, it figured of all days there would be a major accident and she was late to begin with. Julia only had a half-day at school, the afternoon set aside for parent-teacher conferences, and now there was no time to take her home. She'd simply have to take her with her to the meet with the federal prosecuters.

They were still making a mad dash when Kyle shouted ahead for someone to hold the elevator door. As the doors closed behind them she looked up to see the other occupants of the elevator. Even without his pilot's uniform she'd know him anywhere… those green eyes and there were no ill feelings, they'd made their peace nine months ago. "Captain Rich…" She said in acknowledgement but couldn't think of anything else to say. "uh ..thank you…"

"You're welcome Ms. Pratt, and who might this lovely young lady be." he asked smilng back at them both before launching into avid conversation with the little girl to keep from dragging his gaze back to her mother. "This can't be little Julia now can it?"

Julia looked from Malcolm's face to her mother, looking askance to converse with a man who she saw as a stranger. "Do I know him, Mommy?"

"Not exactly, sweetie, but he knows who you are, when he saw you last you were sound asleep. He's an airline pilot."

But with her answer to her daughter, Malcolm had no choice but take notice at least momentarily of Kyle, a visual inventory so to speak…honey-gold hair, striking blue eyes, a killer smile. To put it succinctly the Kyle Pratt sharing the elevator with him now was stunning.

Kyle Pratt had clearly picked up the pieces of her shattered life, the woman before him a far cry from the distraught woman on that plane nine months ago. She was no longer buried in recent grief and scared out of her wits. She'd certainly recovered well. She was relaxed, well as relaxed as possible given the circumstance. She appeared happy, confident. Of course he thought he saw traces of residual sadness lingering in her eyes, but he supposed getting over the passing of a beloved spouse was as difficult as recovering from the loss of a child. And somewhere deep inside he knew he wanted to find some semblance of happiness for himself, but that would mean risking more pain, and he didn't think he could leave himself open to that kind of hurt again.

Apparently her mother's response was good enough for Julia and she smiled back up at Malcolm. "My mommy works for the airlines too," and almost as an afterthought, added, "But I suppose you already know that."

Malcolm chuckled softly, "Aye little lass, that I do."

Kyle noticed the change in Malcolm's face as he smiled at her daughter, the laugh lines only making him appear even more handsome, if that were possible.

And once again she seem to sense sadness, a loneliness, and given what she'd personally experienced in this man's company, it seemed out of place, wrong somehow. He seemed to be a man dedicated to his profession, his concern and duty to his passengers and their safety undeniable.

She'd been livid with him on the plane when he'd halted the search for Julia, but now—she understood he'd had no other choice, given that the facts as he knew them at the time twisted by Carson's scheme. She wanted to somehow ease the pain she read in his gaze whatever the cause may be.

Kyle started to say something to her daughter when the the door dinged and slid open, and all three of them stepped off on the fifth floor. Pausing at the reception desk directly across from the elevators, Kyle asked which direction to the offices they were both seeking.

The woman looked to be in her early sixties, a grandmotherly type, one you'd not expect to see in a federal office building. She directed them to the right, down a long corridor. At the far end sat a row of chairs. And Kyle spotted Fiona immediately. "This way," he said, with nod in Fiona's direction.

Malcolm led the way down the corridor, Kyle and Julia close behind him. They checked in with the receptionist for the prosecutor handling this case. And Fiona stood up to greet the latest arrivals. "Malcolm, Ms. Pratt" she glanced down a young Julia Pratt. and you're Julia."

"And you, if I remember correctly are Fiona…" Kyle said with a smile.

"Yes ma'am. Fiona Lopez." It was clear Fiona was still uneasy with what had happned all those months ago.

"It's Kyle, if you don't mind, Fiona, same for you Captain."

Malcolm smiled. "Only if you call me Malcolm."

Her answering smile was like a warm breeze on a chill afternoon. "Done"

A door, two doors down past the receptionist opened and two people stepped out. Brice Avery and his co-prosecuter, Natasha Mills. He and Ms Mills both stepped forward, greeting their witnesses with handshakes all around and introducing themselves. "I see everyone made it. Ms Pratt, I see you brought your daughter.."

"Yeah, sorry about that, traffic accident and there was no time to take her home, I hope that's not a problem."

"Not at all. This really shouldn't take all that long. An hour at the most. Ellen here can watch her while we run through what we expect to happen in court. What you can likely expect on cross examination and such. We are expecting do the rest of the final interviews with the flight crew later this afternoon, we interviewed the handful of passengers we are calling forward this morning. "

"Mr. Rich and Ms. Lopez you two will be handled while on the stand by Natasha here, and I will be doing primary onstand interview of Ms Pratt in the courtroom." Malcolm and Fiona followed Natasha into her office and Kyle went with Mr Avery.

Everything went smoothly, Fiona finishing first, and she went back out to keep Julia company, taking responsibility for Julia until her mother was finished, not that the receptionist had minded at all, but Fiona had nothing better to do for the moment. She was riding back to the hotel with Malcolm.

Kyle was finished shortly, and Fiona was still waiting for Malcolm. Kyle smiled to see Fiona sitting side by side with her daughter, Julia having pulled something out of her backpack, showing it to the other woman. Kyle stood and simply watched Fiona and Julia for a few moment. She was still watching when she detected the unsmistakable scent of Malcolm's musk-scented cologne. The scent was masculine and inviting. It didn't occurr to her whatsoever that her body was actually taking physical notice a man's attributes for the first time since David died.

His voice was deep and smooth, warmly resonant as he spoke from behind her, over her shoulder, "She seems to be doing well, how about you?"

Kyle turned to face Malcolm, her smile was as warm as his voice had been, but her tone was one of resignation, "I'm doin' all right I suppose. We're living not far from my parents and she'd doing well in school. We both still miss him, and some days are better than others of course. Overall we're moving forward and I'll just be glad when all of this is over and maybe I can put more distance between myself and all the rest of it. Accepting the facts as they stand is one thing, but learning to live with it is another matter entirely."

She wondered at the sudden flicker of sadness and complete understanding she saw in the green depths of his eyes. She couldn't help but wonder who he'd lost that caused him such pain, but Malcolm Rich was still in essence a stranger to her, It wasn't her place to ask. Still, compassion flared between them, the clear knowledge of a shared emptiness. Neither of them was aware of Julia's approach until she tugged on her mother's sleeve.

_**"Mommy! I'm hungry…"**_


End file.
